all the little things
by eludedream
Summary: She could never read his mind and he would never say his thoughts to her. A series of ficlets and drabbles all related to the same universe. Theo/Hermione
1. if you wanted honesty

Disclaimer: This is a transformative work using intellectual property and characters belonging but not limited to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera. No money is being made from this work.

He's standing under the dim porch light. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his long coat. There's snow fluttering about.

Winter is cold, she muses silently. She stares at the man standing on her back porch. He's staring at her too. His coat is covered in a thin layer of snow.

She cracks first, of course. There was little doubt in her mind that the man in front of her could stay silent for days if he wanted to. She had no intention to be around him that long.

"What are you doing here, Nott?"

He shrugs and walks a few steps closer. There is a ghost of a smile on his lips. "To see you. What else would it be?"

She bristles slightly. Her frown relaxes, but her arms remain crossed against her chest. "Today's Christmas Eve. You should be spending it with friends or family."

The smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, "Shouldn't you be letting me in then, Hermione?"

She refuses to step away from the entrance to her flat. "You shouldn't be here."

"And why is that?" She could sense the tiredness in his tone as well as a bit of anger. "Can't you just…let me in?"

She doesn't speak. The silence is telling.

He sighs and runs a hand over his hair. "If you wanted honesty, you shouldn't have looked at me like that."

He steps away. "Have a good Christmas, Hermione."

It's not until he Apparates and Ron and Harry come through the fireplace, shouting at her to see the gift they've bought for her that she realizes how numb her hands have grown.


	2. the sea

Disclaimer: This is a transformative work using intellectual property and characters belonging but not limited to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera. No money is being made from this work.

Once Harry and Ron have gone, she's left alone again. She's wafting through memories and stops at one she has nearly forgotten. It was during the summer at the sea. She still recalls the scorching sand and Theo's raised eyebrow and quirky smile as he laughs at her before wrapping his arms around the back of her knees and lifting her from the ground. She remembers protesting, very vehemently, and hearing his laughter ring in her ears.

She's so happy at the moment (back in her little flat in the middle of winter) that she smiles. Once the memory has faded and her smile is worn, she moves away from her cozy living room to her bedroom.

She whispers a spell under her breath. There's a sound of a door opening before a tiny black box flies into her hands. The velvet feels soft against her touch. She opens it.

There's a ring sitting inside.

She doesn't look at it for too long and closes the box before setting it aside on her drawer. She settles on her bed and looks up at the ceiling.

She always thought she'd be married by now.

There had been a choice to accept, to wear the ring on her right hand.

Then maybe, she muses, just maybe, he'd be here right now with her.


	3. the midnight ballroom

Disclaimer: This is a transformative work using intellectual property and characters belonging but not limited to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera. No money is being made from this work.

* * *

She twists and turns in her sleep. At three in the morning, she gives up and sits in bed instead. She's propped up against a set of fuzzy pink pillows that had been a gift from Luna. She stretches her legs lazily against the softness of her bed before grabbing a book she had left on the bed stand.

The clock ticks from outside the living room.

It's four already and she's nowhere closer to sleeping than when it was three.

She shoves the book neatly into the gigantic stack that's hovering over the small bed stand. Harry and Ron's invitation to The Burrow for Christmas feels tempting right now. She doesn't like the looming darkness that reminds her how empty the house is. She takes another glance at the time with the digital clock her mother brought for her.

4:23 AM

She feels reluctant to get out of bed. Her blankets are the only thing protecting her from the cold. So she sits there, staring blankly in front of her. Her breathing is loud to her ears.

4:45 AM

She sighs, running her fingers over her hair. She finds knots, unsurprisingly, and gives up the task. Before she can change her mind, she brings her feet over the mattress and stand up. She puts on a simple blouse and a pair of worn jeans. Right before she steps out of her room, she turns back as she realizes she's forgotten her coat. She wraps it around her shoulders as she steps into her fireplace and yells, "The Burrow!"

When she sticks her head out of the fireplace, she's not surprised to see Harry sleeping on the couch, arms wrapped around Remus' and Tonks' child. He stirs awake. He blinks hard and rubs his eyes before grabbing his glasses off the table. It is only with glasses that he sees her, standing with her hands shoved awkwardly in the pocket of her coat. He stares at her groggily before he really notices her presence.

He checks his watch, notices the time and smiles boyishly at her. "Merry Christmas, Hermione." He looks up at the stairway and then looks back at her. "Want me to get Ron?"

She shakes her head and mouths a "No" before sitting down quietly with the two of them. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

She sees the way Harry's eyes flash knowingly at her tone. He reaches for something in his pocket and for a second, she thinks he's going to give her a handkerchief but no, it's a piece of paper.

She stares at him curiously.

"Teddy's Christmas gift for you. He fell asleep drawing it."

She takes the paper delicately. It's drawn in crayons. There are weird markings everywhere. She looks at the figure with a triangle for a body and messy scribbles for a hair. "Is that me?"

"He insisted on the dress," says Harry.

A smile lights her face. Teddy was the sweetest child with all the little things he did.

"Is the other person you? He has dark hair, I think," she says.

Harry shakes his head. "He drew Theo."

"Oh," says Hermione.

"Teddy was talking about some midnight ball thing." He's studying her carefully now.

She looks at the picture again and notices the other figure doesn't have glasses. Oh.

By now, Teddy's sleeping on Harry's lap. He's snoring quietly. She sees Harry looking at her still.

"How are you two?" he asks finally. The question looks as if it had been sitting in Harry's mind for a while.

She shrugs. "He's still my friend."

Harry looks uncomfortable, practically fidgets in his seat. She knows he was never quite used to dealing with situations like these. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't know what to do either.

"I'm fine, Harry," she insists.

Harry doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't say anything. "You should get some sleep."

"What about you?"

He takes the young boy in his arms and lifts him up. "We fell asleep on the sofa." He laughs. The boy stirs in his arms.

"U-Uncle Harry, what's going on?" The boy rubs his eyes and yawns.

"You're going to bed," says Harry. "Up you go."

The boy cranes his neck until he spots Hermione. "But, Auntie Hermione's here!"

"She'll still be here in the morning," says Harry and he looks to her, as if confirming his words.

She nods. "Right."

He nods back. "You can sleep in Ginny's room. She's still at the hospital. We're going to visit her tomorrow, but if you feel tired, you can sleep in."

Hermione shakes her head. "She's my friend, Harry. I'm coming too."

Harry nods his head one last time and heads upstairs.


	4. anachronism

Disclaimer: This is a transformative work using intellectual property and characters belonging but not limited to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera. No money is being made from this work.

* * *

"You're still wearing that old sweater? It's out of style."

When she walks down the stairs with only two hours of sleep, she finds Theo sitting in the kitchen drinking from one of Mrs. Weasley's cups.

"Good morning to you too," she says, stepping into the kitchen. She should have known that he would have been here too. He hasn't got any family left; his father died two years back and staying in his house for all of Christmas would have been too cruel. "Can you hand me a cup?"

He hands it to her silently, but she still feels uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his stares. She's glad that he hasn't mentioned yesterday's events. She holds the cup gingerly, taking a small sip before she turns to walk out of the room.

"Wait, Hermione."

She turns around slowly and stares at him hesitantly. "Theo?"

"Did you want me to leave? If you're feeling uncomfortable, just tell me." He smiles, but there's a hint of sarcasm that doesn't escape her.

She shakes her head. "No, they'd want you to be here. Merry Christmas."

When she leaves the kitchen, she remembers to close the door shut behind her.


End file.
